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THE TROUBLING OF 
BETHESDA POOL 



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No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



The Troubling of 
Bethesda Pool 

A Comedy in Two Acts 

Adapted by permission from the story of the sa?ne 
title by Laura E. Richards 



By 
MRS. GEORGE F. BANCROFT 

NOTICE TO PROFESSIONALS 

This play is published for amateurs only. Professional com- 
panies are foibidden the use of it in any form or under any title, 
without the consent of the author, who may be addressed in care 
of the publishers. 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 

1917 






The Troubling of Bethesda Pool 

CHARACTERS 

Miss Bethesda Pool, of the old Inn. 

Mrs. Sarah Jenkins, her cousi?i from Indiana. 

Nan Bradford, Bradforas daughter. 

Mary Ann Tarbox, Miss Bethesda s maid-of all work. 

Miss Susie Freeman ^ 

Mrs. Mary Minchin 

Miss Mary Minchin 

Mrs. Selina Brown Leaf 

Miss Sally Leaf 

Mrs. Isabella Flynt 

Mrs. Israel Bumpus 

Mrs. John Wentworth 

Will Newell, Nan s lover. 

BucKSTONE Bradford, /^r;;/^;- suitor of Bethesda. 

Old-fashioned costumes add to the effectiveness of the perform- 



friends and neighbors. 




Copyright, 1917. by Mrs. George F. Bancroft 
As' author and proprietor 



All rig?iti reserved 
^CI.O 47839 



f 



-^ 



SEP 18 1917 T„pq2-008592 



The Troubling of Bethesda Pool 



ACT I 

SCENE. — A plaifily furnished old-fashioned sitting-room. 
Window a?id door at back of stage. 

{At rise of curtain, Miss Bethesda Pool is seated at a bare 
table cutting out pieces of cloth with a very large pair of 
shears.') 

Enter Marv Ann Tarbox with dust-pan and duster and two 
brooms a7id starts moving the chairs to one side of the 
room, htmwiing a tune as she ivorks. 

Miss B. Now, Mary Ann, you don't mean to say you can't 
see that I've already swept this room myself? 

Mary Ann. Sure, mum, I didn't stop to look. I always 
sweep it Thursdays whether it's dirty or not. 

Miss B. You know I always sweep it myself when there's 
company comin' ! 

Mary Ann. It's so long sence we've hed any company in 
the house that I clean forgot it. My, but them was good old 
days when this house was an Inn and your father — my, how 
he kept it right up to the mark — and fine ladies and gents 
a-comin' and a-goin' all the time, {Dusts chairs gingerly^ 

Miss B. I am only too thankful that my poor father made 
money enough keeping an Inn so that now I don't have to. 
Why, just getting ready for Sarah has put me all on edge ! 
What would one do with a whole houseful of people all want- 
ing something to eat and hot water up-stairs and 

Mary Ann {eagerly). I could handle 'em, mum. I 
used 

Miss B. You see if you can handle one now, instead of 
recalling the painful past to me. Is the west bedroom ready 
for Mrs. Jenkins ? 



4 THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL 

Mary Ann. Sure, it's been ready for over a week now and 
dusted ev'ry day sence and 

Miss B. And supper ? 

Mary Ann. I was just a-goin* to be parin* some vegetables 
fer a good hot supper when I thought of the sweepin'. 

Miss B. That's right, Mary. She probably had a cold 
lunch with her on the train. Well, I guess we are all ready 
for her. 

Mary Ann. Oh, yes, mum, we sure be (Starts to go.) 

Miss B. Mary Ann, please take those brooms and things 
with you. Do you suppose I want Sarah to think we got all 
torn up here getting ready for her to stay a week's visit ? 

Mary Ann. Land sakes, no, mum. 

{Gathers up brooj?is, etc., and exit.) 

Miss B. {resuming cutting). There, I do believe I've enough 
of these aprons cut out to last me through Sarah's visit— good 
straight work, too, such as will leave me free to talk with 
Sarah while I'm doing it. How much we will have to talk 
about ! To think I haven't seen her for most twenty years. 
{Sighs.) It's so long since I've had anybody come here to 
make a visit that I'm nervous, terribly nervous. {Folds up 
work and goes and looks out of window.) I~wonder why she 
doesn't get here. The train {looking at clock) was due down 
at the junction an hour ago and it never does take that long for 
the station wagon to get up here. I do believe I hear it rattlin' 
now. {Looks out again.) Goodness, it's beginning to snow ! 
Yes, there's the team and there's a woman in the back seat. 
( Wipes her brow with handkerchief and pats up her hair ; 
then opens the door. Enter Mrs. Sarah Jenkins with large 
shaiul pijified around her, very many skirts, a poke bofinet and 
a carpet bag and ttvo ba?id boxes of gay wall paper cover itig. 
Miss B. embraces her.) Well, Sarah Jenkins ! 

Mrs. J. Well, Bethesdie Pool ! 

Miss B. It's you, sure enough, and as rosy and bloomin' as 
ever. Set down yer bags and take off your things. It does 
me more good to just look at you. Don't need to ask if you're 
well, do 1 ? 

Mrs. J. Don't know as I do you either, Bethesda. You 
don t look more'n five years older than when I last saw yer, 
twenty years ago. 

Miss B. It doesn't seem as if it could be that long, does it? 



THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL 5 

Family all well ? Your girls must be most grown up by now, 
aren't ihey ? 

Mrs. J. As tall as their mother, and smart, too. They're 
doin' all the housework while I'm over here fer their father and 
the three boys and two hired men. And that's somethin' to 
do, too, I can tell you. 

Miss B. I should say so. You must get a good rest now, 
while you're here. Mary Ann's a good cook and we'll just set 
and sew and talk. 

Mrs. J. Yes, I've brought three dozen napkins to hem, 'en 
some shirtwaists to embroider for the girls and some wristlets to 
knit for the boys and 

Miss B. Gracious to goodness, you'll want to begin this 
even'n' right after supper, I'm afraid. 

Mrs. J. No. I want to look around first and not do a 
thing to-night. This room looks 'bout the same as ever. 
What good times we used to have here when your father kept 
the Inn ! Remember how ail the young folks used to meet 
and have dances in this room? Money Musk and Hull's Vic- 
lory and the Tempest ! Oh, how I did use to love the 
Tempest ! Remember how Hiram Slocum used to flop his 
elbows so {giving illustratioji), goin' down the center that there 
never was room for a girl to stay side of him — had to come 
taggin' long behind and every one a-laughin' at 'em ! Oh, 
and the old trap-door in the floor of the room the Masons used 
to meet in ! Remember how we used to dress up and pop up 
liirough it, and then we'd pretend we didn't know it was there 
and fall through ? ( Goes to door at L. a?id starts to enter.') 1 
suppose you've had it all nailed up by now ? 

Miss B. (^grasping her arm and pulling her back). No, no, 
don't go in. I've left it just the same as it always used to be. 
I never saw the need of bothering to nail it up. No one but 
me and Mary Ann here. We don't even open the door from 
one year's end to the other. 

Mrs. J. No. 'Tain't as if you had a whole houseful of 
family tearin' round. Speakin' of family, I nev»r dared write 
and ask, but what became of Buckstone Bradford ? You could 
have knocked me over with a feather when 1 heard you didn't 
marry him. What come between you, anyway? 

Miss B. Well, nothin' much in particular. It just blew 
over. 

Mrs. J. You don't say such absolute, abject devotion could 
blow over ! It sounds very well, but I know you did somethin' 



6 THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL 

to dish him. You always were obstinate, and if I hadn't 
moved away from here, I'd have brought you round mighty 
quick ! 

Miss B. My, but you sound quite like old times, Sarah. 
You always used to lecture me, you know. Well, he did try 
to make it up off and on for a while and — then he finally 
married Abbe. 

Mks. J. Not Abbe Markham? 

Miss B. Yes, but she's been dead ten years now. 

Mrs. J. Um, you don't say. But the poor thing never did 
have no more life to her than a November chicken, anyhow. 
Any children ? 

Miss B. Yes, one girl. Nan. She's just eighteen now, rosy 
and es pretty es a picture. Looks just as he used to when he 
was a little boy. But land to goodness, here I've kept you 
a-talkin' on and on and you haven't been up to your room yet 
to get the cinders shook out yer clothes even, to say nothin' of 
washin' your face and hands. {Calls. ^ Mary Ann ! Oh, 
Mary Ann ! Here, Mary, take Mrs. Jenkins' bag, please, and 
show her to her room. Then we'll be ready for your hot 
supper. 

Mrs. J. Thank you, Bethesdie, and I won't be raore'n a 
jiffy. \_Exeu7it Mrs. J. and Mary Ann, r. 

Miss B. {alo7ie). My, but Sarah's as breezy and bossy as 
ever, but I don't wonder she asked about Buckstone Bradford. 
I don't see now myself how I didn't finally marry him. I can 
remember it as if it was yesterday — how he stood in the north 
parlor with his back to the stove, and says he, ''Bethesda, I'm 
goin' to marry you anyway, and I'd like to see you get out of 
it, mind that ! " Well, I did get out of it. {Sighs and begins 
to pick up seiving. A knock heard at door outside. She goes 
to door. Enter Nhii Bradford. She has a shawl over her 
head and is wiping her eyes.) Why, Nan Bradford, what's 
the matter ? 

Nan. I don't s'pose I can come in, can I, Miss Pool ? I'd 
like to speak to you if you wouldn't mind. 

Miss B. {motioning her to a chair). Surely, why not ? Set 
right down and tell me all about it, child. 

Nan. It's father, Miss Pool. Father he's goin' on dread- 
ful ! You know Will Newell has been— well, he has thought a 
sight of me and I of him these two years past. Used to see him 
while I was staying to grandma's over to Four Crossroads and 
grandma knew all his folks, and there ain't none better in the 



THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL 7 

country, she says, and yet, father, he acts as if I was one thief 
and Will another. He won't let him come to the house and 
says I shan't write to him nor anything. He won't do anything 
just 'cept be ugly ! There, 1 hadn't ought to say it, J know, 
my own father and just the best father a girl ever had in the 
wide world till this come up. But he won't hear of my mar- 
rying anybody, that is the plain truth, Miss Pool, not if 'twas a 
Seraph with six wings ! And — and what am I to do, I should 
like to know? I come to you 'cause you've always been good 
to me and I seem to know you better than any one else, now 
grandma's dead. And I wouldn't complain of father to any 
one else in the village, so I wouldn't. 

Miss B. (fioddhig). I know that; course not. 

Nan (wiping eyes with a corner of her shawl). I'm just 
beat out, Miss Pool. 

Miss B. Well, well, that's too 

Mary Ann (puitifig head in door). Please, Marm, but 
them vegetables and the fried chicken is just done to a turn and 
I think I'd better call to Mrs. Jenkins to come down to her 
supper, Marm, and 

Nan. Oh, I must be going. I didn't know you had com- 
pany. (Starts to go.) 

Miss B. No, you mustn't ; wait. Mary, you just put the 
things in the oven to keep hot, please. Mrs. Jenkins will be 
down just as soon as she's ready. Now you just set right down 
and let me think a minute. 

Nan. Oh, I knew you'd help me. You are going to, 
aren't you, dear Miss Pool? 

Miss B. You just set still and let me think a minute. (Nan 
sits back and keeps very still watchi?ig her. Miss B. lost in 
thought for a fill mi?ii(te.) Does — er — is Will ready to get 
married now ? Right away ? 

Nan. Oh, yes, for a long time now 

Miss B. And — er — you — want to 



Nan (embarrassed). I — I guess so 



Miss B. Well, Pll tell you what you do; you just go home 
and be as meek as ever you can be to your father. When he 
scolds you about Will Newell, don't even try to stand up for 
him, understand? 

Nan. Yes, but. Miss Pool, it's awful hard not to when he 
tells me Pm a-makin' a fool out of myself about a noodle ! 

Miss B. It sure must be, but you do as I tell you, and when 
I send Mary Ann over for you, you come right over here and 



8 THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL 

I'll tell you what my plan is. It may not work, and yet it 

may, too, for when I set out to do a thing ■ Well, 1 won't 

be gettin' your hopes up too much case somethin' should hap- 
pen and you'd be disappointed. But you do as 1 tell you now, 
for I have a yearnin' to help you to be happy seein' as I haven't 
been happy myself. But that's neither here nor there. Good- 
night, child. 

Nan {/zissi7ig her impulsively). Oh, did you use to be in 
love once, too? And that's why you're goin' to try and help 
me? Oh, it's so good of you. Good-night, Miss Pool. 

\_Exit. 

Miss B. Did I use to be in love once, too? What made 
the girl think of that, and what would she think if she knew it 
was her own father I used to be in love with, and am now for 
that matter, 1 suppose, wHenever I let myself stop to think about 
it. But it could never be made up now, never. But it's not 
too late for Nan. She mustn't keep puttin' off and puttin' off. 
The time to get married is just as soon as both is willin'. If 
only me and Buckstone Bradford — but dear me, I mustnl; let 
my mind get runnin' on the past when the little girl's asked my 
help for the present. There ought to be somethin' I could do 
to straighten things out. 1 used to be good at plannin' things 
once. {Sits down and seems lost in thought. Mrs. J. enters 
quietly^ looks at Miss B., who does not notice her^ then sits 
do7vn and waits. Finally Miss B. Jumps up and laughs.') 
Why, Sarah, when did you come down ? 1 was miles away, 
thinking up all the stories I ever read about elopements. 

Mrs. J. Land's sakes, Bethesdie, what air yer a-talkin* 
about? You ain't plannin' to elope, air you? 

Miss B. Dear me, no, Sarah. You remember I was only 
just tellin' you that Buckstone Bradford had a daughter? 

Mrs. J. Why, yes, of course I do. Is it her? 

Miss B. Yes, she was here just now while you was up-stairs 
and she just about dissolved, — wants to marry Will Newell and 
Buckstone won't hear to it. He's a real nice boy, too. I 
know all about his family. Buckstone always was headstrong, 
and it's just like him to be a-hectorin' his little girl. I wouldn't 
have stood it — no, not a day, if I was his daughter, let alone his 
wife. I mean — er — er — it's just pure selfishness in him, — 
wants her to boil potaters and set his slippers to warmin' even'n's 
fer him, that's all there is to it, I know. 

Mrs. J. And so this helpless young Nan has come to you 
for sympathy ? 



THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL Q 

Miss B. I rather think it was for help more likely. 

Mrs, J. Help; how could you help her? 

Miss B. Well, I used to be able to get the better of Buck- 
sloiie once and I don't suppose but what I could again, once I 
put my mind to it. 1 have it; listen, Sarah, and tell me what 
you think of this plan. Her father wouldn't stop her from 
comin' here to a party, just for ladies, you know, and then I'd 
tell Will about it, and they could drive over to Hillsdale or 
some town near here and be married by the time Buckstone was 
lookin' for her to come liome. 

Mrs. J. And by the time that time come you'd be havin' a 
pretty strenuous time with him here askin' you why Nan hadn't 
come home at ten o' clock. I shouldn't envy you then, if 
Buckstone Bradford is as rambunctious as he used to be when 
1 knew him. 

Miss B. I imagine he is, but I ain't afraid of him. Now, 
let me see, I'd word the invitations somethin' like this. {Takes 
pencil froftt table and starts to write.') And, oh, Sarah, I 
could have this party in your honor. 

Mrs. J. Oh, my, I'm 'fraid 'twould embarrass me awful. 
Be puttin* on style kinder too much; wouldn't it? 

Miss B. Why, no such thing. Just to invite in old friends 
you used to know as girls and their daughters. I should think 
you'd like to see 'em all. 

Mrs. J. Why — er — yes — I guess it would be real excitin'. 
I feel, it in my bones it would be, and I'll do all I can to help 
you. I'll put right in on the cake and frostin'. I do hope 
you've got a good strong egg beater. 1 always set great store 
by a good strong one. 

Miss B. (ivho has been writing). There, Sarah, listen to 
this. {Reads.) Miss Bethesda Pool asks the pleasure 

Efiter Marv Ann suddenly. 

Mary Ann. Fer goodness' sakes, Miss Bethesda, them 
vegetables will be all het to a pulp ef you and Missis Jenkins 
don't come out and set down to yer supper. When your father 
kept the Inn he 

Miss B. Oh, we were just coming, Mary. 

{Exeunt Miss B. and Mrs. J. Note is left on table.) 

Mary Ann {starting to straighten tip room arid finding note ^ 
reads to herself, then atoud). Miss Bethesdie Pool asks the 



10 THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL 

pleasure of your company at a social dance and musical next 
Thursday evenin' at seven o'clock to meet Mrs. Sarah Jenkins. 
Miss Sarah Procter that used to be. Yours truly, Bethesda 
Pool. Jerusalem, Jerhosaphat, is the missis a-goin' clean crazy 
or what? Pleasure of your company when she ain't been 
pleased to see anybody for years as 1 know of. A social dance ! 
Bethesda Pool as hasn't set down to a table nor yet asked a 
soul to set down to hers in fifteen years. Well of all ! But so 
it is. You can't tell where to have some folks even though 
you've had 'em all your life as you might say. The Pools 
always was streaky and Bethesdie was bound to show it some 
time. I s'pose I will have the pleasure of settin' out the re- 
freshments and washin' the dishes till the middle of the night 
myself, me that used to trip the light fantastic with considera- 
ble vim, if I do say it as shouldn't. {Gives illustration^ 
Land's sakes to goodness, what's got into me? Guess there's a 
streak in the Tarbox family somewhere. 1 must get along out 
to the kitchen and take in the apple dumplin' ; they'll be just 
about wantin' it by now, I'm a-thinkin'. \_Exit. 



CURTAIN 



ACT II 

SCENE. — The satne. Mary Ann is putting some flowers in 
a vase and arra7igi?ig some greefi decorations. The room is 
cleared of all but a few chairs and prettily tritfimed with 
evergreens, etc. 

Mary Ann. My, but I've hed more pure enjoyment out of 
this than I expected even. Them notes of invitation was like 
a bomb-shell to every woman I handed one to, and before I'd got 
half-way round, there'd be half a dozen neighbors before me 
with a regular hubbub in the parlor, askin' — '' Hev you got one 
yet? Let me see if it's like mine." Then the last two days, 
most every woman in town showed up here, offeiin' to help 
with the refreshments. You'd have thought we never had done 
any cookin' here before to speak of, but I guess they'll change 
their minds to-night when they sample some of the things we've 
made. 

E filer Mrs. J. 

Mrs. J. That's right, Mary; we've done ourselves proud 
in the collation, haven't we? You deserve a great deal of 
credit for the way you've worked, and all this trimmin' up has 
pleased Miss Bethesda so much. 

Mary Ann. It's good to have your exertions appreciated, 
mum, but if it hadn't 'a' been for you tellin' us how to make all 
them newfangled dishes, we couldn't have made such stylish 
things. Why, me and Miss Bethesda never even heard of 
manazie dressing for a salad and such like ! But I must hurry 
and put it right back on the ice. I had it out for Sophie 
Higgins to sample it. She works next door fer the Minchins, 
and so she's comin' over to wipe the dishes for me ; said she 
guessed that would more'n pay for her supper and she couldn't 
bear to stay home with her missis and the two gals a-comin' 
over here. \^Exit. 

Mrs. J. Well, I hope this will all come out all right, but it 
does seem awful risky to me, putting your finger into other 
people's affairs this way. I should say that if the dainty Nan 
and her loving William haven't gumption enough to elope 

n 



12 THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL 

without its bein' suggested to 'em, and lettin' an innocent 
single lady call down the irate father's wrath on her shoul- 
ders, they'd better not get married. 

Miss B. {entering, drawing on lace mitts). There, Sarah, do 
I look grand enough to be giving a party ? I do hope they all 
will really have a good time, even if I am only asking them so 
as to give Nan a chance to marry the right one. 

Mks. J. Well, nature is evidently in league with you, Be- 
thesda. The moon is full and the sleighing perfect. They will 
all probably come out on such a night. 

JNiiss B. I imagine they'd all come just the same if it'd 'a' 
rained pitchforks. Curiosity can hurry the laziest folks as ever 
drew breath. Even the oldest will turn out to see Bethesda 
Pool make a fool of herself. {Bows.) 

Mrs. J. Oh, so bad as that, Bethesda? I guess not quite, 
really. 

Miss B. Yes, that's v/hat they're thinking right now while 
they're on the way. But let them come, there'll be more than 
one fool to-night if things go as they should. It's strange 
though, I haven't heard a word of Will yet. {A whistle heard 
outside. Miss B. looks out of window, raps and beckons.) 
There he is now. {Enter Will Newell in large overcoat, fur 
gloves and cap.) Will Newell, that's you sure enough. Did 
you get my note all right ? 

Will. Yes, Miss Pool, and Nan — does she — is she — does 
she— er — know where 

Miss B. Yes, Nan knows it's the old north shed where you 
and the hoss and sleigh is waitin' fer her. 

Will. Is she here yet ? Is she coming now? 

Miss B. No, of course she can't come right off — about an 
hour, I guess, from now. 

Will. Oh, Miss Pool, I don't know how to thank you. I 
never even dared suggest to Nan that we do it this way, and 
you — why, you're a brick. Miss Pool, you are. 

Miss B. Well, well. But don't stop to thank me now, 
they'll be comin' in a minute ; you'd better hurry and hide. 
Quick ! There's the bell now ! 

{Exit Will, and enter Mrs. Israel Bumpus.) 

(The conversation of individual party guests may be omitted, 
each entering and shaking hands with a ^^Good-evening, 
Miss Pooiy) 



THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL I3 

Mrs. B. Good-evening, Miss Pool. Delighted to be here, 
I'm sure. 

Miss B. Pleased to see you here, Mrs. Bumpus. This is 
Mrs. Jenkins, Sarah Procter, you know. 

Mrs. B. To be sure I remember Sarah Procter. My, but 
this reminds me of old times when we used to all meet here, 
years ago. Young folks to-day don't have the gay times we 
used to. (Sig/is.) 

Mrs. J. ' Oh, I don't know but what they do, Mrs. Bumpus. 

(Mrs. B. shakes her head sadly.) 
Enter Mrs. Isabella Flynt. 

Mrs. F. Good-evening, Miss Pool. 

Miss B. Good-evening, Isabel. 

Mrs. J. Would you know me, Isabel ? 

Mrs. F. Why, of course, I'd recognize you anywhere, 
Sarah Procter. You don't look a day older than when you 
and Silas left here for the West twenty years ago. What a 
send off we did give you two and we a-thinkin' all the time 
you'd be back to the old farm in a week or two. 

Mrs. J. We did think so ourselves, but we've never re- 
gretted takin' up our quarter section even if we did decide 
rather sudden like. It's a fine country. You can't beat it 
here even. 

{Interrupted by netv guest.') 

Miss B. And, Sarah, here is Selina Brown's daughter, 
Sally. Sally, Mrs. Jenkins used to be your mother's best 
friend when they went to the old district school together. 

Miss Sally Leaf. Oh, yes, mother used to tell me heaps 
about the good times you two had together. I think the old 
schoolhouse must have been lots more sociable than our big, 
new, brick one. 

Mrs. J. Oh, I don't know. I remember the stove used 
to smoke so that we never could see to study any on rainy days 
or if the wind blew very hard, "it was awful nice some ways 
though, otherwise. I suppose you have a fine new furnace in 
your new schoolhouse ? 

Sally. Yes, but the girls have to stay all on one side of 
the yard at recess and the boys play ball on the other side, and 
I don't like it not to play duck-on-the-rock and gypsy daisy 
with the boys any more. 



14 THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL 

Mrs. J. Well, well, I don't blame you, not one bit. 

Miss B. Sarah, this is Mrs. VVentworth, our dear pastor's 
wife, Mrs. Jenkins. 

Mrs. J. How do you do, Mrs. Wentworth ? 1 shall look for- 
ward to hearing your husband preach next Sunday. But it will 
seem strange not to see old Dr. Strong m that pulpit. f^Sig/is.) 

Mrs. John Wentworth. Oh, but my dear Mrs. Jenkins, 
don't you find other things much changed also? Some of the 
older people don't approve of our improvements. They think 
it isn't lady-like for the girls to use our fine new drinkmg 
fountains. 

Mrs. J. Oh, I'm all for modern improvements. We don't 
want our children to drink germs out West. 

Mrs. W. Yes, I suppose the West is very advanced in 
some ways, and yet you should see our library and our 

Mrs. J. Yes, I'm going to begin looking round to-u^orrow. 
You see I've only been here four days yet, and 1 have spent 

most of that in the kit Well, you'll see later how Be- 

thesda and I, not to mention Mary Ann, have spent it. 

Sally (^lij/io has heard last speech). Yes, Miss Pool's Mary 
Ann told our Jane that she never saw such fixin's. A feast fit 
for queens she called it. Ma and 1 didn't eat any supper 
before we come over and 

{Her mother co?nes up, shakes her by arm and says " Hush / ") 

Miss B. Sarah, here is Miss Freeman. 

Mrs. J. Do you remember me, Miss Freeman ? 

Miss Susie Freeman. Do I remember you, Sarah Procter? 
Didn't you use to go to school with me, and didn't you always 
have to be put in the front row because you cut up so that you 
kept tlie boys from studying ? 

Mks, J. Dear me, as bad as that, was I ? But I do re- 
menijjer I really did feel awfully because my name didn't gel 
written in the beehive. 

Miss F. And you hain't forgot that? Well, well, how it's 
the little things we all rememl^er the longest !. 

Miss B. {advajichig to frofit of stage). I hope you'll all 
enjoy yourselves and make yourselves as much to home as if 
you was to home ! 

All. Thank you. Miss Pool. 

Miss B. 1 wonder why Nan Bradford doesn't come. 

Sally. I know she expected to come because I was over to 
her house last night just before supper and she had her hair all 



THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL I5 

done up in curl papers then ! I didn't dare say anything about 
the party 'cause her father was right there eatin' his supper and 
he looked awful cross and 1 was afraid he'd up and not let her 
come. 

Miss Mary Minchin. Yes, her father watches her awful 
close these days. 1 stopped in there to get her to go over to 
the Center with me to get some ribbon yesterday and he 
wouldn't let her go. But I told her to cheer up, that spring 
was comin' and when her pa had to get out ploughin' he 
couldn't watch her so close. That did cheer her up some, but 
she's seemed awful excited like to me lately; but she won't tell 
me what the matter is. 

Nan {enteritig breathlessly). Oh, Miss Pool, I don't know 
what to do, or what you'll think, but father he's insisted on 
comin' with me, and he's out there by the pump a-lookin' in 

the window, and I don't know what he'd do if — if He 

can see right in, don't you see, and (wiping her eyes') I'm all 
beat out, Miss Pool. 

Miss B. There, there, child, wipe your eyes. I am sure 
Mr. Bradford's proximity will not hinder our enjoyrhent at all. 

(Crosses over and pulls doivn shade which j although she 
yanks it, will not come within but six inches of the win- 
doiv sill. She places a chair vehemently before this space. 
All laugh.) 

Mrs. Leaf. We'll have to take turns a-settin' in that chair 
to hide his view of the festive revels. (Sits in the chair.) 

Miss B. There, Nan, lay aside your wraps. We are going 
to dance the " Roger de Coverley." 

Sally. " Roger de Coverley " ? 

Mrs. Minchin. My dear, you probably know the dance as 
tlie Virginia Reel. Mr. Wentworth says it was the one dance 
the theological students were permitted to enjoy. 

Sally. Oh, did they ? {Sits down by her.) 

Miss B. All form two lines for the *' Roger de Coverley." 

{Aliform in tzvo lines up and down the stage and with music 
go through the Virginia Reel ivith very elaborate bows. 
After dance over Miss B. takes Nan to a corner and talks 
in dumb show. Giiests promenade.) 

Mary Ann {bringing in some punch in glasses on a tray). 
Here's somethin' coolin' fer yez. 



l6 THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL 

Each (^as she takes it). Thank you, Mary Ann. 

\_Exit Mary Ann zvith tray, etc. 
Miss B. All form in threes for '<• Pop goes the Weasel ! " 

{All form in groups of three. Music. All court sey to cefi- 
ter of group. All join hands and circle round. Two 
forjn afi arch i?i each group and the third goes under, meets 
a new group, and repeat the same as above. All sing, 
keeping time with music. The third ahvays ducking under 
raised hands of other two on the word " Fop.^') 

'' All around the cobbler's shop 
The monkey chased the weasel : 
That's the way the money goes, — 
Top I goes the weasel ! " 

{After dance once around. Nan gets cape afid bonnet from 
chair, kisses Miss B., who was not dancing, and goes 
quickly out at outside door. Almost immediately a loud 
pomiding comes on the wi?idow and dancers and music 
stop at once and listen^ 

Bradord {outside'). Where's my daughter gone, Miss Pool? 

Miss B. Just up-stairs a minute, Mr. Biadford ; she's tore 
her dress ruffle and gone to fix it. 

Brad. I doubt that some. -Party or no party, I'm comin' 
in. I'm a-goin' to keep my eye on that gal. 

Miss B. {going to extreme l.). No, you can't come in, 
Buckstone Biadford, so there ! This is a ladies' party ! {Re- 
turns with key.) There, I've locked the outside door. 

Mrs. F. Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! Miss Pool, he's a-geltin' in at 
the window of the room next to this ! 

Mrs. J. The old Masons' room ! The one with the liaj) 
door in the floor ! I'd ought to call to him to look out ! 

Miss B. No, don't you do it. {Grasps her arm.) Nan 
hasn't more than got to where Will is yet 



Mrs. J. But, Bethesda, he might ! Jf he should 

{Awful slam bang heard outside back of closed door at back 
of stage. All scream a?id clasp each other.') 

Miss B. {opefii?ig door). Oh, he's forgot it and fell in and 
like to have killed himself! May the Lord forgive me ! 
Brad. Perhaps the Lord will,' but I never ! 
Miss B. {shutting the door quickly). Mercy on us ! 



THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL I7 

Mary Ann {e7iteri7ig). And please you, Miss Pool, the 
supper is ail spread in the dining-room, Marm. 

Miss B. Ihank you, Mary. Then, ladies, we will all go 
down to supper. {All exeunt r., talking excitedly. Miss B. 
stops Mrs. J. as others go. ^ Oh, Sarah, will you please start 
the lobster salad and the biscuits, and ask Mrs. Leaf to pour 
the coffee, and get Sally and Mary to pass cream and sugar, 
and I'll be right down in a minute. 

Mrs. J. AH right, Bethesda, but 1 wouldn't help him up 
alone if I was you. 

Miss B. Don't you worry, Sarah. 1 know Buckstone like 
a book — but send Mary Ann in here when you go, please. 

Mrs. J. All right, then. I'll hurry along. \_Exit. 

(Miss B. crosses stage on tiptoe and opens door carefully 
and peeks ifi.) 

Mary Ann (enter i?ig). Oh, for the land's sakes, what is 
the matter? Why ain't you out in the dining-ioom with the 
company? 

Miss B. Hush, Mary, and will you please go and get the 
step-ladder in the back wood-shed ? Quick ! 

Mary Ann. Step-ladder ! 

Miss B. Yes, step-ladder ! Mr. Bradford is down in the 
hole in there. (Points.) 

Mary Ann (raisittg botli hands). Fer the land's sakes, Miss 
Bethesda, what is Mr. Bradford a-doin' in that hole in the old 
Masons' room? You're talkin' wild, mum. 

Miss B. Well, if you are unequal to the task, 1 shall have 
to get that ladder myself. 

Mary Ann. Oh, no. I'm equal to it. 1 dote terribly on 
excitement, but it's all come in lumps lately. 

\_Exit^ fanning face ivith handkerchief. 

Miss B, Poor Mary, I don't wonder she most fainted. 

{Peeks in at open door.) 

Brad. Am I to stay in this infernal place all night ? 

ViYi's,^. {hand on heart). My gracious (Mary Ann 

returns with ladder. Miss B. helps and they go into old Ma- 
sons^ room. Slamming and hanging, shrieks and groans heard. 
Finally enter Brad., supported on either side hy MiSS B. and 
Mary Ann. They help him to a seat.) There, Mary, now 
you can go back and help serve the guests. 



1 8 . THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL 

Brad. And tell my daughter to come here at once — at 
once, I say. 

Mary Ann. Yes, mum. Yes, sir. [Exit. 

Miss B. Your daughter is not in this house, Mr. Bradford. 

Brad. Not in this house ! 

Miss B. No. By this time she undoubtedly is Mrs. William 
Newell. 

Brad. Well, I'll be (Starts to get up.) 

Miss B. No, no, Buckstone, please sit down and let us see 
how you are after your tumble. 

Brad. How 1 am ! My ankle's broke ! That's how 1 am. 
I can't bear my weight on it at all. (Gives exainple.) 

Miss B. (feeiuig of it). That's only sprained and swoU a 
little. You'll feel better by and by, and I'll lend you a cane 
to get home with. 

Brad. Home ! I ain't got any home to go to, thanks to 
you, Miss Pool. I hope this has done you good. 

Miss B. It has so, Buckstone Bradford. Your gal — 
pretty creeter — came cryin' to me all about how you was treatin' 
her and 'twas a shame, I thought. It's just that you was a 
greedy graball, Buckstone, and didn't want your gal to do any- 
thing all her days 'cept wait on you. I'm sorry I hurt your 
ankle, but I helped those children off for pure pleasure, I did, 
and for love of seeiii' young things happy. 1 planned this party 
for it and sent for Will Newell and showed him where to hitch 
his horse and helped Nan get off. You was pretty spry, Buck- 
stone, and if you hadn't fallen in that hole you might of 

Well, that's what I did, and I'd do it again if I had the chance, 
and I'm glad clean through to my back comb I done it. So 
there ! [Exit suddenly. 

Brad. Well, I'll be blowed ! A greedy graball, am 1 ? 
(Scowls and feels of ankle.) If I could, I'd get away from 
here before she comes back. (Gets np slowly. Miss B. re- 
tiirns with a glass on a tray and a plate covered with a napkin. 
Puis little table in front of Jiim and uncovers plate.) There's 
some lemonade and some of those little lemon drop cakes you 
always set by, remember ? 

Brad. And you ain't forgot that all these years? (Takes 
glass and a cake.) But I must be gettin' along. Them ladies 
will all be ccrain' back in a minute. Where's your cane, 
Bethesdie ? 

Miss B. But, Buckstone, I can't have you goin' out in the 
night air with your ankle all swoU up that way, and it bein' my 



THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL 1 9 

fault and all. (Wipes her eyes.) You'll catch your death 
a-cold. 

Brad. S'pose I do ketch my death ? Ain't any one to 
care, as I know of. Ef I thought there was any one who was 
willin' to let bygones be bygones and begin all over where we 
left off years ago, I'd — I'd be the happiest man ever was. 

Miss B. I can't have you hobbling round an empty house 
and no one to get your breakfast and me so well fixed here 
and all. 

Brad. So it's settled, then? {Starts to embrace her.) 

Mary Ann {enterifig suddenly). Oh, Miss Bethesda, here's 
that cane you was lookin' fer. I found it in the closet under 
the stairs. 

Miss B. (giving cafie to Brad.). Mary, you may show Mr. 
Bradford up-stairs to the north bedroom and take up some hot 
water. He's going to stay all night. (Exit Brad, with cane 
a?id Mary Ann with lighted candle.) Well, well, am I 
drearain' or wakin' ! (S?noothes her hair.) 

Mrs. J. (enteri?ig followed by several guests). Well, Be- 
thesda, you bearded the lion in his den and seem none the worse 
for it ! 

Miss B. No, I guess not. Hush, here they come ! 

Miss F. Well, 1 must be goin'. Miss Pool. I shall surely 
see you again before your visit ends, Sarah ? 

Mrs. J. Yes, indeed, I am coming over next Wednesday to 
stay all the afternoon. 

Miss F. Oh, how delightful ! Good-evening. [Rxit. 

Mrs. B. Good-night, Mrs. Jenkins. A most delightful 
evening ! Good-night, Miss Pool. \^Exit. 

Mrs. L. Don't you want Sally and I to stay and help you 
help up Mr. Bradford out of that hole ? 

Mrs. F. Oh, yes. Miss Pool, we ought not to leave you and 
Sarah this way. 

Miss B. (coldly). Thank you greatly, but we shall manage 
very well by ourselves. 

Sally. Come on. Ma. Good-night, Miss Pool. We've 
had a daisy time. 

Mrs. L. Why, Sally ! Your manners, Sally ! 

(^^^//;// Mrs. M. and Mary, Mrs. L. ^w^Sally.) 

Mrs. F. Well, if you refuse our assistance ! [Exit. 

Mrs. W. So pleased to have met you, Mrs. Jenkins ! 

[Exit, 



20 THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL 

Mrs. J. Did you help him up, Belhesda, or is he down in 
that cold cellar yet ? It makes me nervous, it really does. 

[Starts toward door.) 

Miss B. No, no, Sarah. Mary and I got him up long ago. 
He's sprained his ankle and 1 was afraid he'd catch cold goin' 
out in the night air, and he's up-stairs, and — er-r 

Mks. J. Up-stairs ! 

Mary Ann {e?iteri?ig). Well, the gent is all stowed away 
a-soakin' his ankle in the best wash bowl in the north bed- 
room. He seems to feel in very high spirits, mum, and if all 
I've heard is true, you ladies had better be goin' up-stairs, aivd 
let me put the lights out and get some rest myself. It's gettin' 
on toward midnight and a party one day and a weddin' comin* 
is about as much as I can stand. What with settin' out supper 
and washin' dishes and helpin* lame gents up-stairs, I'm about 
played out. It's been more excitement than we've had here in 
twenty years before. {Sighs and exits.) 

Mrs. J. What in the world has she heard about a weddin', 
Bethesdie? 

Miss B. Why, I was just a-tellin* you, Sarah. He said 
s'pose I do ketch my death, ain't. any one to care as I know of. 
And so I said — well — er — er — he said — that is — we're goin' to 
let bygones be bygones. We're goin' to get married. 

{\Veeps and wipes eyes with handkerchief.') 

Mrs. J. Well, well, that's only what ought to have hap- 
pened years ago. And perhaps, after all, it is better sometimes 
to give providence and chance and such-like a little push once 
in a while. But what you cryin' about, Bethesdie; ain't you 
willin' ? 

Miss B. Oh, yes — that is, I guess so. I'm just cryin', 
that's all. 

(JVeeps on Mrs. J.'s shoulder and Mrs. J. pats her gently 
on the back.) 



CURTAIN 



New Plays 



.eriors 
ihe a 



ONE OF THE EIGHT 

A College Comedy in Four Acts 

By Norman Lee Szvartout 

Ten males, four females. Costumes modern ; scenery, two easv in 

— s I lays a fu 1 evening. A lirst-class piece for college production by 

u hor of" llalf-Back bandy," the story turning uj^on the event of the 

annual boat-race. All parts good; strongly rtxomn.endcd. Can be 

played only by payment of a royalty o( ;5io.oo to the author. 

Price, 2J cents 

CHARACTERS 

^/*^-Jf Brooks. " Mollie " Runskool, ^ freshman. 

Mr. Brooks, his father. Bill Carter. 

Lord Chilllngworth. Professor Dixon. 

Peter, his vakt. Mrs. Brooks, Henry* s mother. 

Guy Marks, I. D. Helen Baldwin. 

Caleb Weston. Bab. 

Ned Andrews. Amy, the Professor's daughter, 

SYNOPSIS OF SCENES 

Act I. — Parlor in Henry's home at Redville, on New Year** 
night. 

Act II. — Curiosity room in Delta Sigma Fraternity House, h 
Qiorning in June. 

Act III. — Same as Act II. Afternoon. 

Act IV^ — Same as Act II. Evening. 



THE POETS' CLUB 

By M, N, Beebe 

Eleven male characters. One act. Scenery unimportant ; costum.'^s 
modern. Plays thirty-five minutes. A capital farce for boys, easy anr) 
effective. Characters include an Irishman, a Swede, a pugilist, a tramp< 
a negro, a farmer and a " willy-boy." Strongly recommended. 
Price^ Zf cents 



New Plays 



COUSIN KATE 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Hubert Henry Davies 

Three males, four females. Costumes modern ; scenery, two easy in- 
teriors. Plays two hours and a half. One of the most delightful comedies 
of recent years, made widely and favorably known through the admirable 
performance of the leading role by Miss Ethel Barrymore. The inimitable 
spirit with which the scenes between Miss Barrymoi-e and Mr. Bruce 
Mc Crae were played returns inevitably to haunt the imaginative reader 
of the lines of this play. Sold for reading only; acting rights strictly re- 
served. 

Fricg, JO ce7its 

CHARACTERS 
Heath Desmond, an artist. Mrs. Spencer, a widow. 
Rev. James Bartlett, a Amy Spencer, her daughter. 

clergyman. Jane, a servant. 

Bobby Spencer, a 5^/^(7^/<^^. Cousin Kate Curtis, ««<7z/^/«/. 



. MRS. GORRINGKS NECKLACE 
A Play in Four Acts 

By Hubert Henry Davies 

Five males, five females. Costumes modern ; scenery, a single interior. 
Plays two hours and a half. An admirable play of strong dramatic interest 
presenting a cast of characters imagined, drawn and contrasted with un- 
usual skill and eft'ect. The piece is well known in the United States 
through the memorable performance of the leading lady character by Miss 
Mary Moore supporting Mr. Charles Wyndham. To such as remember 
that admirable performance of an admirable play, the reading of the text 
will be full of reminiscent pleasure. Sold for reading only ; acting rights 
Strictly reserved. 

Price, JO cents 

CHARACTERS 

CapTo Mowbray, retired. Mrs. Jardine. 

Col. Jardine, retired. Isabel Kirke ) her 

Lieut. David Cairn. Vicky Jardine ) daughters, 

Mr. Jernigan, a detective hi- Miss Potts. 

spec tor. Mrs. Gorringe, 
Tj^iarles, afootmoH, 



New Plays 



THE VILLAGE SCHOOL MA'AM 

A Play in Three Acts 

By Arthur Lewis Tubbs 

Author of " Valley Farm,'" " Willowdale^ " The Country Minister^'' 
« The Penalty of Pride,'' ''Miss Buzbfs Boarders,'' etc. 

Six males, five females. Costumes modern ; scenes an interior and an 
2xterior, or can be played in two interiors. Plays two hours or more. 
An excellent comedy-drama, combining a strongly sympathetic dramatic 
interest with an unusual abundance of genuine and unforced comedy. 
The parts are unusually equal in point of interest and opportunity, are 
genuine types of rui-al character, truly and vigorously drawn and easily 
actable. No dialect parts, but plenty of variety in the comedy roles and 
lots of amusing incident. An exceptionally entertaining piece, full of move- 
ment and action, and without a dull moment Can be strongly recommended. 
Price 2^ cents 

CHARACTERS 

Richard Elliot, storekeeper and postmaster. 

James B. Graham, a commercial traveller. 

Rev. Mr. Flick, the village parson. 

HosEA Clegg, who belongs to the G. A. R. 

Sam Alcott, who has a more than better half. 

'YAii,jzist a boy. 

Sylvia Lennox, the village school-ma^am. 

Ida May Alcott, who has had advantages. 

Mrs. Alcott, her proud 7nam7na — somewhat forgetful, 

Elvira Pratt, a dressmaker. 

Posie, who was born tired. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. — In front of the store and post-office on a morning in August. 

Act II. — Same as Act I, the middle of the same afternoon. If more 
convenient, these two acts may be played as an interior scene with very 
few changes of " business " and dialogue, the stage being set in that case 
IS the inside of the store, with counter, post-office boxes, etc. 

Act III. — The home of the Alcotts, three days later. 

THE SUBSTANCE OF AMBITION 

A Drama in One Act 

By Mariejosephine Warren 
Three males, one female. Scene, an interior ; costumes modern. Plays 
twenty minutes. A sketch of compelling dramatic interest by the author 
of "The Elopement of Ellen." A serious piece of high class that can 
V-. ^^i-omxuended. Price i^ cents. 



HIS FATHER'S SON 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Gladys Ruth Bridghain 
Fourteen males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors. Plays an 
hour and three-quarters. Free of royalty. Douglas Doyle, a pupil at 
Maplehurst School, discovers that he is being supported in luxury by the 
hard work and self-sacrifice of his father, who hjs not let him know that 
he has lost all his fortune. He leaves school at once, though by doing so 
he falls under suspicion of theft. This news reaches his father before he 
does and leads to a misunderstanding ; but Douglas gets a trial assign- 
ment on his father's paper, makes a big " scoop," and is finally set right 
in all ways. Very sympathetic and effective. Strongly recommended. 
Price, 22 cents 

CHARACTERS 

Nathan Doyle, reporter on the ''Boston Daily News** 

Douglas Doyle, his son ; Junior at Maplehurst. 

Hiram McBinney. 

Jerry McBinney, his son. 

Lancello Griffith, reporter on the "News.'* 

Jim O'Calahan, city editor of the "News.'* 

Timothy Glenn, o£ice boy. 

Philip Crane, head master of Maplehurst, 

Harrison Fiske, his assistant. 

Harry Atkins 



John Hartwell 
Horace Russell 
Raymond Sears 
Ordway Mitchell 



Juniors at Maplehufst. 



Plays One Hour and Three- Quarters 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. — Douglas Doyle and John HartwelFs room— Maple 
hurst Preparatory School, about fifty miles from BostoHo 

Act II. — Nathan Doyle's room in a Roxbury lodging-hoijse , 
evening of the same day. 

Act III. — The same a week later. 

Time. — November of any year. 



SCHMERECASE IN SCHOOL 

A Character Entertainment in Two Scenes 

By George P. Seller 
Nine males. Costumes, modern and eccentric ; scenery, unimportaiit. 
Plays about an hour. No royalty. A burlesque school entertainment, 
introducing songs and specialties. Equally suited for boys and men. 
Ends with a minstrel circle, and may be used for an introduction to such 
an entertainment. A capital burlesque, strongly recommended. 
Price, /J cents 



1 



I 



K 



JK. m* Pinero's Plays 

Price» SO 0etit$ Each 



^i 




IWin TH ANNFI ^^*y ^^ ^°^'' ^<^*s- Six males, five females. 
1^ lflll/"Vlli\lHlljLi Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. 
Plays two and a half hours. 

HE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH St^^'^.^'h^E 

es, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interiors, 
■s a full evening. 

PROFIinATF Play in Four Acts. Seven males, fire 
* *^V/1 Lii\lr^ I Li females. Scenery, three interiors, rather 
e ; costumes, modern. Plays ft full evening. 

*Hnni Mf^TPFQ^J Farce in Three Acts. Nine males, 
MVfWLilUiL? I IVEiiJiJ seven females. Costumes, mod- 
' thr'" 9 interiors. Plays a full evening, 

YlD MRS. TANQUERAY gg.'-'^S.^S'.'; 

les, modern; gcenery, three interiors. Plays a 

FNriFP Comedy in Three Acts. Seven males, 
LillLrEiIV four females. Scene, a single interior, 
.. Plays a full evening. 

/'"nFRROT T Comedy in Four Acts. Ten males, 
^f. 4i/£iI\0\/Li I nine females. Scenery, three interi- 
'dS, modern. Plays a full evening. 

.|P Tfll/irC Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven femalea. 
- llldi 1 IlTl£iij Scene, a single interior ; costumes, modern. Plays 
a full evening. 

TUP WFAITFP QFY Comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, 
lll£i TT £i/\IV,i:iI\ OUA, eight females. Costumes, modern; 
scenery, two interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE F^^^males, four female!! 
\ Costumes, modern ; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 



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A^ YOIl I IK'F IT Comedy in live Acts. Thirteen males, fo,' 
A J lUU MAI4 11 females. Costumes, picturesque ; scenery, ' 
ried. Plays a full evening. 

TAMII I F I^rama in Five Acts. Ni)|e males, five females.. 
vAlTlli^UU tumes, modern ; scenery, vJ^ied. Plays a full ev 

INfiOMAV -^l^y ^"^ Y'w^ Acts. Thirteek males, three ,V 
lllUVlTlAlV Scenery varied ; costumes, Greeks Playsafuljf 

MADY ^TIIAKT Tragedy in rive Acts. Thirte^r jn> 
IflAIVl <311JAA1 rnales, and supernumeraries. Gf 
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THE MERCHANT OF VENICE S,X'[h'?ef<S ' 

picturesque ; scenery varied. Plays a full evening.\ 

pirnpr ICIT Play in Five Acts. Fifteen males, tWj 
l\lvllL<l^IL<ll ery elaborate ; costumes of the peri* 
evening. 

THF RIVAT S comedy in Five Acts. Nine males, . 

1 lllw m T AlvO Scenery varied ; costumes of the period. - 

full evening. 

SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER '^S^^ZJ^l^:^t^Il^l 

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TWELFTH NIOHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL "^Z^^JJC^. 

three females. Costumes, picturesque ; scenery, varied. Plays a 
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